


Preventative Measures for Alien Hygiene

by kayliemalinza



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-26
Updated: 2008-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:50:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a casual night with Dom!Ianto. Also, a dash of alien botany.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preventative Measures for Alien Hygiene

"Shirts off," ordered Ianto, pulling Jack's beloved trunk from under the bed.

Jack raised an eyebrow as he went for his buttons. "You're being awfully toppy tonight," he said.

"I'm always 'toppy,'" said Ianto. He spared a moment from unlocking the trunk to smirk. "Sometimes we roleplay that you're in charge."

Jack's satisfied leer didn't do much to deny that. He reached out to pull Ianto onto the bed with him, but Ianto shoved his wrists away without looking. He unearthed a pair of manacles from the trunk, studied them, then perfunctorily tossed them back in.

"Watcha looking for?" asked Jack as he stripped off his undershirt.

"I'll know it when I see it," Ianto muttered. "A bit like how you cleverly identified that substance this morning before touching it."

Jack went silent a moment. He was old enough that a memory lapse wasn't unexpected, but he was pretty sure he hadn't figured out what the goopy stuff was until after spot-testing it on the back of his hand. He knew this because the spot test had in fact enabled a swift and correct identification, seeing as very few organic toxins in the universe caused that type of rash.

Ianto had agreed with the others beforehand that Owen's tests would take too long and this was the best alternative, but the pale blue pustules must have surprised him. The patented Ianto Disgusted Sneer had been in fine form. "Are you mad at me?" Jack asked.

"It wouldn't change anything if I were," Ianto said absent-mindedly. He began laying items out of the way as he delved deeper into the trunk.

"I might say no," Jack said.

Ianto snorted.

"I don't want to be at the mercy of someone who might hurt me!" Jack cried. "By the way, do you want my pants on? Off?"

"Off," said Ianto. "What would I do, Jack? Murder you?"

"Hey, it might not stick," said Jack, stepping out of his pants, "but it'd be very upsetting."

Ianto didn't answer. He held up a skein of rope: thin, twisted, slightly brambled. It looked like it might hurt.

"Give me your hands," said Ianto.

Jack did.

"As you know," said Ianto, tying the rope around Jack's left hand, "I have sensitive skin. I'm not going to risk getting any of that alien toxin on me. Turn around."

"That seems fair," said Jack. He rolled his shoulders as Ianto lashed his hands tightly together behind his back. The rope was rough; as it scratched against his skin, he shivered.

"By the way," Ianto said quietly. "If I murder you, then you have permission to fire me."

"But if I fired you, we'd probably have to stop dating," said Jack. He twisted around to look at Ianto. "I don't want to stop dating you."

Ianto smiled and guided Jack to lie face-down on the bed. "I'm glad to hear that," he said.

Jack shifted into a comfy position and grinned.


End file.
